


Heart of the Storm

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Siege of Storm's End, pregnant Davos Seaworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-19 09:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19971607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Davos arrives at Storm's End with his onions, his children in tow, including one on the way. Stannis doesn't quite understand why he finds himself unable to ignore the smuggler and his family.





	Heart of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greygerbil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/gifts).



Stannis didn't know why he came to the cavern below Storm's End. Its existence was known to few, and there was little risk of an incursion there. Perhaps that was why he came. It was one of the few places in the castle he could go without fear of being interrupted. 

He settled down on a rock and stretched his legs out in front of him. Finally, blessed silence without the muttering of hungry men, Renly's incessant questions, or the noise of siege. 

They could not last much longer. He knew this. Argella Durrandon had always been one of the ancestors he'd consciously modeled himself on, so he'd studied her history extensively enough that he knew well enough what possible fate lay in store for him. _The Tyrells may not have dragons, but hunger is a gnawing beast all the same._

"Father, there's a gate." 

Stannis lifted his head. He could have sworn he'd heard a child's voice, but Renly was the only child in Storm's End, and he was supposed to be in bed. And he had no father.

"Indeed," said a man's voice. "We will have to hope someone is able to let us through." 

Stannis rose from his perch, sliding his sword slowly from his scabbard. The voices were coming from the entrance to the cavern from the bay and he crept carefully along the rocks, trying to keep his presence concealed for as long as possible. He could not fathom why a man would bring a child there. 

"Father, what if they don't like onions?"

 _Multiple_ children. This one seemed younger. 

"They're starving, dummy. They'll eat anything."

At least three children. 

"Dale," came the father's voice again, a warning tone.

Stannis could see them now, through the portcullis. They were in a small boat, a man and three little boys, one of whom was clutching a lantern. 

He stepped out from behind the rock. "Who goes there?"

The man looked up; his face split into a smile in the dim lantern light. "Are you a Baratheon man? Can you let us in?" 

Stannis' grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Did the man not see it? "What? So you may let the Tyrells in?" 

"I don't work for the Tyrells. I have food."

Stannis' stomach growled at this. "Who sent you?"

"No one. I heard of your plight and decided to help." He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I wanted to show these three what to do when you hear of people who need help." 

Stannis' grip loosened on his sword. Slowly, he sheathed it. 

The old portcullis had not been raised in nearly a year and it took some effort for Stannis to do it by himself in his weakened state. Once it was high enough for the boat to pass through, Stannis lowered it again, then made his way as quickly as he dared back across the rocks.

The oldest boy, who looked about seven, was helping his father tie the boat up. The two younger ones, he decided were five and three. 

And that was not all.

As he stepped unsteadily out of the boat with the help of his son, Stannis realized the man was with child.

Stannis froze in his tracks. He still wasn't sure what was happening here, though it seemed their hunger was being relieved by a man about to give birth. 

The man braced his back. "Don't worry," he said. "I've weeks to go yet." 

Stannis looked away, conscious that he was staring. "Thank you," he said. "The men will appreciate the food. I appreciate the food." 

"It's not much." The man made to bend back over the boat to take up a sack and Stannis stepped forward so he would not exert himself. "Just salt fish and onions."

"It's more than we have." Stannis hefted the sack. "I will send more men down for these. Come."

"Are you taking me to Lord Baratheon?" 

Stannis stopped. "I am Lord Stannis." He felt foolish for having assumed; how was this common sailor to know who he was? "Who are you?" 

The man paled. "Forgive me, then. I had hoped to make a much grander presentation to the lord of the castle. My name is Davos."

"No matter." Stannis turned on his heel, shouldering the sack. "Follow me."

**

Davos would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't nervous. He had perhaps enjoyed too much being greeted by what he took to be a handsome young soldier, perhaps not too much higher born than himself. Instead, who he'd been greeted by was a handsome young _lord_. 

And it was obvious, as he followed him, for he could see now that Stannis held himself straight, his bearing noble. His clothes were well-made, though they hung off him—Davos could only imagine how much weight he'd lost. 

"Come," he said, taking Matthos and Allard by the hands. Stannis had said more men would come for the rest of the cargo, and he didn't think he could manage to lift it, though he'd gotten it into the boat. His back ached after hours spent hunched over the oars, rowing through the shadows. 

And he needed a privy.

Salla had told him he was a fool for sailing right into a castle, especially in his condition, but Salla also ought to have known the very last thing he ought to have done if he wanted to stop Davos was to tell him he could not do something because he was pregnant.

"They are starving, Salla. I can still row my boat." He had smiled then. "And they should pay handsomely—I can take a nice long break after this little one is born." 

That was what he'd envisioned—finding a village near Storm's End, a room to rent, a midwife, and giving birth in peace and with a full purse. 

The babe squirmed as though it could read his thoughts. 

Stannis stopped the first man they met, telling him to gather a party to retrieve the rest of the cargo. Davos remained in the shadows, keeping a tight grip on his children's hands. He wasn't meant to be here, and while he knew he wouldn't be there long, he still didn't like it. 

"Stannis?" An older man in gray robes was coming toward them. A child was clinging to his arm. Davos' heart sank. He had not known a child was among the garrison. The boy looked to be about Dale's age, with limp dark hair and hollow blue eyes. He was very clearly related to Stannis—a son or brother. 

Stannis spoke to the man quietly, then opened the sack he carried. "Here, Renly." He crouched down and handed the child an onion. 

The boy stared at it as though it was a new toy. "Can I really have it, Stannis? The whole thing?" 

"Yes." Stannis' expression seemed to soften. "The whole thing."

Davos watched in fascination as the lad carefully peeled away the skin and took a tiny bite, chewing slowly. "It's good," he said, "but I should save the rest for later." 

"Father," Dale whispered, "he just ate it. He took a bite of onion. I thought they were going to cook them." 

Davos bent to pick up Matthos who was tugging on his breeches. "He was very hungry, sweetling." 

Stannis turned back to Davos then. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "I cannot express how—" He shook his head. "Come with me. "I will find you appropriate accommodations." 

"If it's all the same, my lord, I was hoping to have my payment and be on my way."

Stannis stared uncomprehendingly. 

"I'm a smuggler, my lord. My trade is transporting goods—and I do like to be paid for them." This was the moment he had fretted about. Lord Stannis would be in his rights to take Davos' head or send him to the wall… and what would happen to his children, then? But he could not have left the men to starve. 

Especially now that he knew there was a child among them, a child who kept himself to one bite of onion, who was still looking at the onion in awe, turning it over and over in his small hands. 

"You are a smuggler?" Stannis' expression was unreadable, though his eyes were hard in the torchlight.

"Aye." He could not deny it and would not make excuses. There was naught else he could do. 

Stannis turned away. "I will show you to a chamber where you can wait." 

Davos followed, unsure of what he was waiting for.

**

"Eat some onion, Stannis." 

It was not the first time Maester Cressen had suggested it, but Stannis had not indulged just yet. He needed to settle his mind first. Renly was fast asleep in a chair in the corner of the solar. 

"I wish to speak to the smuggler first. I had a proposal for him, but I need him to assent to it." 

He told the maester his plan and Maester Cressen nodded. "I hope he will agree that is fair. But I hope you will wait—" 

Stannis had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes, I will wait until he's had the babe." _Men will call me cruel for it even if I cannot be blamed for any harm to the babe, so I will not even risk those rumors starting._

He waited for the next morning, though he barely slept himself. He didn't know what to do if the smuggler said no.

He found the man seated by the window in the room he'd been given, his hand resting on his swollen belly. He was so close to giving birth, Stannis realized with trepidation. He did not want to do anything to give Davos a shock and harm the child. The other children were still asleep on the bed. 

"I have a proposition," Stannis began. It would be best to get this over with. You deserve to be rewarded for what you have done. You did not need to come here, risk the blockade, especially in your condition and with your children."

Davos smiled. "It was the right thing to do. And I knew I could do it—begging your pardon, my lord, but I've been a smuggler this long; I daresay I've a bit of skill at it. And as for the children, there's no one I could leave them with. They go where I go." He patted his belly. "And this little one's no trouble at all. I suppose those of your acquaintance can go into confinement when they're expecting but I still need to earn my living." 

This was more candor than Stannis had expected and he knew not what to make of it. "You deserve a reward," he repeated, "and so I am determined to knight you."

Davos' eyes when wide. " _Knight_ me, my lord?" 

"Aye." Stannis felt fully confident of this part. It was the second part he dreaded. "But you are a smuggler. You admit it yourself."

"Yes, my lord." Davos did not shy away from it. "I went to sea when I was a wee thing, younger than my Dale over there. I apprenticed with a smuggler, learned his trade, got a ship of my own. I've been years at it." 

"So your crimes are great." 

"I won't deny it. I can't. So I'm not sure I deserve a knighthood, my lord. That was why I asked merely for my payment and to be let go."

"No," Stannis said firmly. "You certainly do deserve the knighthood." He took a deep breath. "But you must also pay a price for your crimes." 

There was clear apprehension in Davos' brown eyes, but he did not look away. "What price would you ask?" 

"Your fingertips." It was the sort of justice his father might have taken; Stannis well remembered riding with him to Weeping Town to do the king's justice. Steffon Baratheon had believed that marks made men remember and served as a deterrent to others. "You deserve the reward. But I cannot let the smuggling pass without acknowledgement."

"I understand that." Davos was looking down at his hand. "The right or the left?"

Stannis swallowed hard. "The left, I suppose. And," he added quickly, "it won't be done until… until…" He looked away. "Until…"

"Until I give birth?" Davos suggested with a smile.

"Yes. Until that." Stannis was conscious of how red his face must be, but he had spent little time around people bearing children. Mother had had Renly, of course, but that had been different. That had been _Mother_ , not a man not very much older than Stannis who was handsome with warm brown eyes and hair that he was sure would be soft if he could run his fingers through it. 

And three children. 

"Father?" The eldest was sitting up on the bed and Stannis rose from his chair as though caught somewhere he ought not to be. 

"Yes, Dale, I'm right here." Davos rose and went over to them. Stannis remained where he was, feeling like an intruder. 

"Are we staying here?" Dale asked.

"Yes." Davos stroked his son's hair. "Lord Stannis has granted me a knighthood."

"What's that mean?"

Davos glanced at Stannis, startling him. He approached the bed. The child looked rather like Davos, with the same brown hair, though his eyes were green. The others were stirring now, and Stannis felt he was compelled to give the little family an answer.

"Your father will be given lands and incomes, and a name of his own." 

"He's got a name," said one of the children. "His name's Davos."

"A _surname_ ," Stannis clarified. "Which he will pass to his…" He looked down again. "His legitimate children. I have the power to make a knight, but not to legitimize. But you may use the name Storm." 

"Thank you," Davos said. 

"No less than you deserve." Stannis took his leave, though his mind was still with them.

**

Davos slowly became used to life at Storm's End. The operative word was slowly. 

It was a totally different world, one he had never envisioned himself inhabiting when he'd sailed into Storm's End, expecting to be sent on his way with a bit of gold. A knighthood, a name, a future for his children was more than he'd ever imagined in his wildest dreams. 

It was still overwhelming. 

He tried not to bother Stannis, especially knowing they were still under siege, and though they now had food, Davos was conscious of adding four mouths and one on the way. Stannis had told him he was entitled to his fair share, but Davos tried to be modest. 

"Your little one seems healthy," Maester Cressen told him. He'd offered to attend to Davos for the rest of his pregnancy and at the birth, and he was grateful for the offer. 

"Thank you." Davos rested his hands on his belly. The maester's prodding had awakened the babe and now it was very active, as though sensing Davos' nerves. 

"A siege is a poor place for one with child, but Stannis means well," the older man went on. "Don't think he means to keep you captive."

"I don't think that at all." Despite the fact that he had only exchanged a few words with Lord Stannis, Davos felt as though he had a sense of the man. "It is the means to a better life for my children. I just wish I could be more of a help to him." 

Maester Cressen smiled. "You cannot do more than one thing at once, Ser Davos." It was the first time anyone had called him that, and it startled him. "Lord Stannis should let you alone until you've delivered your babe." 

Despite this, Davos still wished to be somehow helpful. He set out the next afternoon, after leaving the children to play in the yard, somewhere out of the way. 

Lord Stannis was up on the walls, surveying the Tyrell siege apparatus that was still massed outside the walls. 

Davos took a moment to study him before he announced his presence. His jaw was set, his arms crossed over his chest. The siege had made him almost skeletal, and Davos knew it would be a long while before he got some meat on his bones. 

_The siege must be lifted soon_ , Davos told himself. _Onions can only go so far._

"My lord?"

Stannis looked up. "Davos," he said, as though surprised to see him. "Should you be out here?"

Davos joined him at the wall. "I don't see why not."

Stannis shook his head, though if he disapproved of Davos, he did not say it. "I just thought perhaps… I know there is little danger from the Tyrells—they are bent on starving us out, not waging actual war." Davos could tell what Stannis' opinion was on _that_. "But the wind up here…" He looked away. "It might be cold." The wind from Shipbreaker Bay was tousling his short, dark hair, and Davos had to fight the urge to reach over and smooth it.

He did not disapprove, Davos realized. He was being earnestly helpful. He smiled. "I saw Maester Cressen. He says I and the babe are as healthy as can be."

Stannis looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Do you know when? When the child might… arrive?"

"Gods willing, it should be close to another month." He rubbed his belly absently. "Although the little one may kick his or her way out first." 

He noticed Stannis was still staring at him, though he was trying not to. 

"I'm afraid my first few weeks as your knight will be useless ones."

"My knight." Stannis said this as though he'd never considered it. "You are not my knight. We both serve my brother. _He_ is the Lord of Storm's End. Not I."

"With all due respect, my lord, it is you who knighted me, and you I would serve. I know nothing of your brother."

"When you meet him you will like him better than me. Everyone does."

"Admittedly I have not gotten to know you well yet, my lord, but the opportunity you've given me is more than I ever hoped for, so I would say I like you quite a lot."

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Stannis' ears seemed to go pink at this. "As I said. You deserve it." He sighed. "Would that I had word of the outside world. They shoot down every raven."

"I had heard there was a big battle at the Trident," Davos said slowly. "But I know nothing else, or if that was even true. That was two nights before I came here."

"Then perhaps we will be delivered soon one way or another." Stannis turned to him. "Should the castle fall, you must save yourself. Your boat is still there. I regret the uncertainty in which I offer you the knighthood and the lands, but you must not put your children and yourself in harm's way." 

Before Davos could reply, Stannis was already halfway to the stairs. Davos could not quite put his finger on why his heart was beating so fast. 

**

Much to Stannis' consternation, the smuggler dwelt in his thoughts much of the time as the days wore on. He told himself he worried only for the comfort of the man who had delivered them from hunger. He was with child, and ought to be taking better care of himself. Stannis had not known Davos long, but he could already tell he was the sort to worry about others before attending to his own needs.

This, Stannis reasoned, was why he visited him so often, making sure he and his children had warm things to wear and wanted for nothing. He knew Davos felt guilty about adding to the burden of those who must subsist on saltfish and onions, but Stannis would gladly give up his share in gratitude. As it was, he frequently gave all but the minimum of his own portion to Renly, Maester Cressen, or Davos and his family. Davos wisely stopped arguing with him about it before long. Meals in the great hall had stopped when food had run low, but it became routine for Stannis, Renly, and who Stannis referred to as "our guests," to eat together in Stannis' solar. 

Davos' children seemed to find the siege conditions an exciting adventure, while having more to eat gave Renly back the energy Stannis had hardly noticed he'd lost. After their meager supper, his attention fell on the small pile of toys in the corner. Stannis remembered near the beginning of the siege, when Renly had dragged his soldiers and half his blocks into the solar; he'd been annoyed at the time, though now he knew Renly only wanted to be near him while he worked. As the siege wore on and Renly's play had slowed, Stannis had not even had the energy to nag him about putting them away. 

Now, he was playing with Davos' children, though they were mainly watching him.

"They won't know what to do with all that," Davos said from beside him. Stannis turned. He looked very natural by the fire and was knitting something. "Their toys are things they've found or I've made. This is all too fine for them."

"Nonsense," Stannis said, mesmerized by Davos' needles. _A hat_ , he decided. _A hat for the babe._ It seemed impossible tiny. "They are the children of a knight. Such is their due. I shall make a present of some toys for them when the war is over."

Davos smiled. "I am sure they will like that." 

They watched as Dale scurried from the room, returning a moment later with a small burlap sack which he dumped out among the blocks. "These are our animals," he said. 

Stannis glanced up at him. "Those are what you made?"

A faint blush colored Davos' cheeks. "Just a bit of wood."

Stannis leaned forward and picked up a queer long-necked animal. "They are well-made."

Davos smiled. "Then perhaps if I find the time, little Lord Renly might like a stag." 

Stannis settled back in his chair, meaning to look at his book, but he found himself watching Davos and the children instead. 

**

At least the children were happy. Renly seemed to have taken instantly to having more playmates; Davos could tell he had been lonely before the arrival of his family. And, he thought, Stannis might have been lonely too.

Once Davos was assured that his children played well with Renly, he left them to it, taking his walks alone. He'd always been encouraged to walk by the midwives and healers who'd attended him during this and his previous pregnancies, and he had made only a few sojourns into the yard and up on the walls before he had a shadow. 

Defending him from danger was a thin pretext, and Stannis seemed to recognize this. He also could not argue he was surveying the men, for Davos' walks favored the sea side of the castle, and most of the guards were watching the Tyrells for any sign of movement. 

Instead, it seemed he simply liked Davos' company. At first, Stannis had simply been telling of the history of the castle and his own family (the idea that anyone could trace his own lineage back hundreds of years was absurd to Davos, who could not even name his own father), but the conversation soon spread to include Davos' experience at sea, something he could discuss at length. And Stannis, it seemed, was something of a sailor himself. 

Again, Davos found himself thinking Stannis handsome. Which did no good to anyone. 

"This war must end soon," Stannis said. He had said as much before, but Davos could tell by the set of his jaw that it consumed his thoughts. "I respect my brother as a warrior, and I think they would have told me by now if he was dead."

Davos reached for Stannis' shoulder. There was nothing he could say to completely ease his mind, he could tell, and he had very little idea of how great houses ran a war. Stannis' muscles were locked with tension, and he rubbed gently. He'd already seen how Stannis kept himself apart from the other men. He was their commander, their liege, and most of his time not spent stalking around the castle was spent with Renly and Maester Cressen. He could use a friend. 

"I'm sure he will prevail," he said. 

Stannis seemed to relax under Davos' touch. "And if he doesn't—" He sighed, resigned to his fate. "There is naught we can do." 

They came to the end of the wall, and Stannis paused at the head of the stairs. 

"These stairs have needed repair since before the siege. You had better hold on to me." 

Davos slipped his arm through Stannis'. There were a few loose stones, and he was glad for the support—he was well and truly waddling now. The babe would come soon. 

"Careful," Stannis said, guiding him past a missing stair.

Davos glanced up at him. Yes, it was a terrible inconvenience that his new lord should be so handsome.

**

Stannis couldn't sleep. Not when he still felt Davos' arm through his, or his hand on his shoulder, or any of the innumerable ways he'd touched him. It only gave him more to worry about—what would they do if Davos gave birth here? Could they care for the child adequately under siege conditions? 

As the days slipped by, with more time spent in Davos' company and watching how well his children got on with Renly, the more he fretted.

The day Ned Stark's army arrived at Storm's End and broke the siege, Stannis felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. 

"Come," he said, going first to Davos' chamber, where he found him watching the children at play. "We are going to get some food."

"Food?" Davos looked up, brows knit. 

"The siege is broken. The Tyrells have mocked me long enough. They are going to surrender some of their bounty. You all may have whatever you like." 

He turned, hoping Davos was following. The children chattered excitedly as they crowded into the great hall. Mace Tyrell and Ned Stark were waiting for him. 

"A meal," Stannis said. "Now. From your camp."

Tyrell looked ready to protest, but he spoke to a soldier, who ran from the keep. He was looking in disapproval at Davos and the crowd of children who stood attendant to Stannis, who were presently discussing what they would most like to eat. 

Only then did Stannis turn his attention to Stark, to hear what orders Robert would give him via the man he would apparently rather have for brother. He knew exactly what his priorities should be. 

**

Davos was unused to have anything done for him; he'd been on his own since he was still a lad himself and he'd already borne three children without much help. He considered himself self-sufficient, so he was surprised by his reaction to Stannis. He had been attentive to all Davos' needs, real or imagined, and he was now busily setting a full meal in front of him as it was brought into the hall.

"You must eat, too, Stannis," he said. 

"I will." If he noticed Davos had called him by his own name, he did not remark on it. Truthfully, Davos had never been accustomed to calling him _my lord_ ; he had always thought of him in his mind as Stannis. "After you, and the children, and Maester Cressen." 

Davos stared down at the stew Stannis was ladling into a trencher. His stomach growled. He had not gone _hungry_ , precisely—Stannis had not allowed that—but he had been hungry and had been deprived of the food he'd been irrationally craving through most of his pregnancy. 

"Olives."

"What?" Stannis asked, from where he'd been cutting Renly's meat. 

Davos cleared his throat and resumed eating his stew. "Nothing."

"It cannot be nothing. You said 'olives.'" 

Davos felt his face grow hot. "It's truly nothing, my lord. I had craved them…" 

Before he could explain that it was a mere foolish fancy brought on by the babe, Stannis was gone, striding across the hall. He returned with olives. Davos could imagine him striding into Mace Tyrell's tent and snatching them right off his table. 

"Thank you, Stannis," he said, taking one.

He ate nothing else until he was satisfied that Stannis was sitting down to a plate himself.

**

Barely a week had passed since the siege when Stannis found himself enmeshed in yet another scheme of Robert's doing. 

He was building his brother a fleet. 

He might have minded, had he not had an able helper in Davos. Davos, through his many years sailing the Narrow Sea, had unparalleled knowledge of ships and their crafting. Though he confessed he couldn't read, he pored over the schematics with Stannis, pointing out flaws in the builders' designs. All the while, Stannis was uncomfortably aware of him and his closeness, the way he would brush his hair back behind his ear or rest a hand on his belly. 

"Are you certain you should be doing this?" he asked for what felt like the hundredth time, though he knew Davos would not be dissuaded. 

"Doing what?" Davos smiled. "Sitting here with you?"

Stannis felt himself blush. He need not have phrased it exactly like that—they were working, not just enjoying the sea air through the open window or the dish of olives he had ordered. "I don't want you to exert yourself. The babe will be coming any day now, won't it? I was going to go to the docks tomorrow, but you need not come." 

"Of course I need to come. You will want help checking the quality of the wood, won't you?" Davos had insisted on cedar to keep rot away, and Stannis had already set men felling trees. 

"Aye," he reluctantly agreed, though Davos looked uncomfortable just sitting there, with the way he winced every time he shifted in the chair. Stannis had noticed him standing up slowly, holding his belly. "You must tell me if you are in distress."

Davos smiled fondly. "Not yet, Stannis. The little one is eager to come out, though." 

Stannis looked away. He both loved and couldn't bear when Davos said his name. At first, he had thought he must correct him into saying _my lord_ , as he ought to, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Just let me know as soon as you need help."

"I will be sure to." Davos leaned over the table once more and pulled the diagram toward him. "Now, my lord, for your flagship."

**

The next day was warm and Davos was pleased to go for a walk, especially if it was with Stannis. On their way to the docks, they talked of other things than war, ships, or Davos' pregnancy. Stannis was regaling him with tales from the history of Storm's End, and while Davos knew none of the figures he mentioned, he enjoyed hearing him talk with enthusiasm. Nearly every step of the journey from the castle to the docks was filled with history and meaning for Stannis. Davos made the journey slowly, and Stannis adjusted his pace to match. Though he felt a twinge with nearly every step, he knew walking would ease the babe along, and it was past time for it to be out. Davos had a suspicion that today might be the day.

But, first there was work to do.

He tried to ignore the growing heat of the sun as he examined the wood that had been brought to the cliff edge for Stannis' inspection. He was determined to check each timber to ensure it would be seaworthy. That, he had decided, would be his new name. Seaworth. 

He smiled at the thought of it, the new future for himself and his children that Stannis' service held. And perhaps more than that… He could not hide the glances he gave his lord, who, it seemed, could not keep from returning them. 

He flexed the fingers of his left hand. Yes, it was a fair price to pay for all that he was receiving in return. 

And that was the moment the child he carried decided to make its intentions known.

"Oh!" Davos could not stop himself from uttering the exclamation, which brought Stannis instantly to his side. 

"Are you all right?" he asked urgently. 

"I'm fine. That was my waters breaking."

Stannis' eyes widened in alarm. "Then we must get you back. Maester Cressen will have my head for dragging you out here." 

"Nonsense. We are nearly finished, aren't we? And this will be the last day in a good while I will be able to come down here. They will surely start construction while I am indisposed. I want to make sure all this wood is good."

Stannis looked skeptical, but he insisted on offering his arm again, which Davos was only happy to take. 

**

Stannis could do little to dispel the agitation he felt as Davos continued checking each plank. He seemed to go slower, knowing that Stannis longed to hurry him on, though that was surely his imagination. Every time he caught Stannis' eye, he smiled at him, making his heart soar. He longed to see Davos safely in bed and attended to by Maester Cressen. 

Childbirth was dangerous, he knew, and while Davos was obviously experienced in the matter, Stannis had known of enough people lost bringing babes into the world that his stomach churned with further unease. He could not bear to lose Davos when they'd just met, when he'd just come to know and appreciate him. 

"Are you finished?" he asked. 

Davos looked up. Only the occasional wince belied that he was having contractions. "I place your fleet over my own comfort."

"And I place your comfort above all." The words left his mouth before he could keep them in. He was sure his face was scarlet now, but there was naught he could do now. He'd said it, and he believed it. He would stand by his words. 

Davos reached for his hand. "Stannis, I assure you a little while longer won't harm me or the babe. Babes take time in coming." 

Even so, he kept hold of Stannis' hand and walked arm-in-arm with him as they studied the rest of the timbers. Davos seemed to need his support more and more as they reached the end of their task and returned to the castle. Once he'd brought him to his bedchamber and seen him settled safely on the bed, Stannis ran for Maester Cressen. 

The next few hours were a haze of activity. Stannis fetched anything Maester Cressen asked him to and minded the children. Davos' sons were full of questions he was ill equipped to answer, but he assured them that he would have more information in the morning. They went to bed in the nursery without complaint, though Stannis suspected there would be little sleeping, as even Renly was wide-eyed when he left them, wanting to know what was happening.

Then he hurried back to Davos. 

He found him on the bed, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. 

"Oh, Stannis," he breathed when he saw him. "How are the boys?"

"They're well." Stannis crossed the room and knelt beside the bed. "And you?" 

"Well enough for being at this these many hours." Davos smiled. "This babe is coming easier than the others. Or perhaps that is because I didn't have Maester Cressen for them." 

Stannis took his hand. "Both, perhaps." From now, his energies were completely devoted to Davos—mopping his forehead, rubbing his back, letting him squeeze his hand as hard as he needed to. The hours seemed to pass without his even noting them; he only knew because the candle had burned past the hour of the wolf. 

"You are near the end," he breathed in Davos' ear. He was sitting beside him on the bed now, his arms around Davos' shoulders, supporting him. If this was easier than the first three children, Stannis could not imagine how painful their births had been. 

_It must be worth it_ , Stannis thought idly, brushing Davos' hair back from his face. _For he keeps having them._

"Here now," Maester Cressen murmured. "One more push, Davos." 

Davos was pale and sweating, his grip loose on Stannis' hand. 

"One more," he said against his ear. "You can do it, Davos, just one more. You have done so much already; I know you have this in you." 

His eyes screwed shut with effort, Davos pushed again and fell back on the bed, panting. 

"You've done it," Stannis told him, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead. "Davos, you've done it. Your child is born."

"Thank the Seven," Davos breathed, not even opening his eyes, though he let out a breath of relief when the sound of the babe crying split the quiet, still night air. 

"Stannis, some help, please," Maester Cressen said, and Stannis moved reluctantly away from Davos. "Will you cut the cord?" 

Stannis stared down, daunted. In Maester Cressen's arms, the baby squalled, red-faced. He quickly did as asked. 

"And now, will you hold him?" Maester Cressen asked. "I must see to the afterbirth."

Stannis could not even respond before Maester Cressen had thrust the babe at him. He tried to rock him gently, but that seemed to make him all the angrier.

"Shh," he said firmly. "Your father is exhausted from birthing you, and he still has much work to do. You must not bother him." He stuck his finger in the babe's mouth and it began sucking, now quieted.

Stannis took this opportunity to study the child. He could not say if he resembled Davos; his face was too squashed and red. Other than that, though, in Stannis' estimation, he was perfect. Stannis was in particular awe of his fingers and toes, how tiny and perfect they were. 

"Stannis." 

He turned. Davos still looked exhausted, but his eyes were open and he was sitting up more comfortably. 

"Do I have a son or a daughter?"

"Another son." Stannis crossed the room to him and sat on the bed. 

"Wonderful." Davos took him, but Stannis was reluctant to leave them just yet. 

Luckily, Davos did not ask him of it.

**

Davos was grateful for Stannis in those first few days. He had rarely had help like this after giving birth and he appreciated the time to spend bonding with the baby. He loved getting to see little Maric take in the world, and as much as that, he loved seeing Stannis take in Maric. 

Maric was nearly two days old and Davos was sitting by the window, rocking the just-fed babe as he watched another storm brew over Shipbreaker Bay. _I could stay here_ , he realized. _I could raise my children here and serve Stannis._ And perhaps more, but Davos was not willing to give voice to those thoughts. He would not allow himself to fantasize about Stannis' arms, his kisses, having children with him. Not when he was not certain Stannis felt the same way.

 _He kissed you_ , he reminded himself. 

Indeed, in his idle moments, Davos' thoughts turned back to that moment, the feeling of Stannis' firm arms around him, the press of his lips against his forehead. It had been an emotional moment, more expression he'd seen from the young lord in all their albeit short acquaintance. Had that raw moment exposed something Stannis did not say aloud?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. 

"Come in."

"Father!" Dale and Allard ran into the room, pushing past Stannis' legs. 

"Quiet," Stannis said sharply. "Your new brother may be sleeping."

To Davos' amazement, they stopped in their tracks, waiting obediently for Stannis to enter with Matthos on his hip and Renly at his side. 

"Here," he said, setting Matthos down. "This is your little brother."

Davos held Maric for his sons' inspection.

"He's small," Allard declared. 

"Why is his face so squashed?" Renly asked. 

"He came out of a very tight place," Stannis told him. "Your face would be squashed, too. In fact, it was, when you were born." 

"He's cute," Dale said approvingly, and Davos held back his smile—clearly, after two younger brothers already, Dale was a veteran of new babies and wasn't as impressed as the others. 

Davos smiled, watching the children admire and discuss Maric. He glanced up at Stannis, who look startled, but there was no hiding it—he had been caught with a smile on his face, too. 

Maric was calm and happy while he was examined by his brothers and fell asleep shortly after they left. Davos took the opportunity to lay him in the nest on the bed he'd made for him and investigate the possibility of bathing. 

Stannis had told him to make use of any servant he saw, and Storm's End had filled back up with them since the breaking of the siege. Davos was still embarrassed about asking for help, though he longed for the ability to take a hot bath. This meant he wrestled with his nerves about ringing for a maid only a short time—they were happy to watch the babe while he took a bath. 

It wasn't long before he was relaxing, eyes closed, in a hot tub, and able to enjoy it, too, because he did not have to worry about Maric. 

When he emerged, refreshed, the maid was gone. Stannis was there, crouching over a cradle in which he'd lain the sleeping Maric. 

"You don't have to do that," Davos said. "Ana was watching him." 

"I like to," Stannis said, without looking up. "Besides, I wanted to give you this." 

Davos stared at the elaborately carved cradle. It was far too fine for his common bastard babe. The headboard was decorated with a ship sailing through a storm, flanked by antlers. Nearly every inch of it paid some tribute to storms, the sea, or stags. 

He glanced up at Stannis. "Thank you. I will be glad to have the use of it." He didn't mention to Stannis how pleased he had been that his room contained a dresser, not because he had enough clothes to fill it, but so that Maric could sleep in an opened drawer. 

"I am lending it," Stannis went on. "The children of the Lord of Storm's End use it." He paused. "No. I thought that would mean Robert's children. Now it means my children." 

Davos felt his heartbeat quicken. There was a tantalizing possibility in those words. He reached down to stroke Maric's downy head, not wanting to put too much weight on those possibilities. 

"Davos," Stannis said softly. He reached for Davos' hand and took it. 

"Yes?"

"I have not forgotten about my promise. You will have your lands." 

"And give up my fingertips." 

"Aye." Stannis brought Davos' hand to his mouth, and Davos closed his eyes as he kissed what he planned to take. 

Then he moved forward and kissed Davos' mouth. 

It was hardly an ideal first kiss—they were sitting on the floor beside a cradle with a sleeping baby in it, a baby to which Davos had given birth just two days before. But still, he kissed Stannis hungrily, pushing his fingers into his hair.

They pulled back reluctantly and did not quite let go of each other. They said nothing, simply resting against each other's warmth until Maric began to fuss. 

"Let me—" Stannis began. 

"No—" 

They both moved forward, Davos reaching the babe first. 

"Davos, I—" Stannis began awkwardly. 

Davos looked up at him as he settled Maric against his chest. "I hope you're planning to do that again." 

Stannis smiled and leaned in to kiss him again.

**

Stannis tried to savor the next few months, for he knew what was to come. He would be dispatched with his war fleet when it was finished to capture Dragonstone in his brother's name. This would mean leaving Davos behind, which he could hardly bear to do.

He had not yet confessed this to Davos, but it weighed on his mind. 

"I think I'm ready," Davos said one day. They were walking outside the castle, along the cliffs above the sea. He had Maric strapped to him, and they walked slowly, enjoying a cloudless day. The older children were far ahead of them. 

"Ready for what?" 

In answer, Davos simply showed Stannis his fingertips. 

"Are you sure?" 

"It will hurt. But it shouldn't affect my ability to take care of Maric." He kissed the top of the babe's head. "And it's got to be done."

"Aye." Stannis wasn't optimistic that others would understand why Davos was surrendering his fingertips, but they would and that was all that mattered. "We will do it before I leave." The prospect of leaving him weighed on him, but there was hope for after that. He cleared his throat. "For when I return…" 

"When you return…?" 

"I'd like for us to be married." 

He did not look at Davos as he said this. 

Davos' response was to take Stannis' hand and squeeze it. "That would make me the happiest man in the world."

Stannis smiled. "No," he murmured. "That would be I." 

**

Stannis did not hold with much ceremony. Davos had realized that very early in their acquaintance. However, he did value protocol. They did not go to bed together, and Davos knew he was determined to wait until they were married.

The taking of Davos' fingertips was the closest thing to a formal betrothal they would do. It worked well enough as one for Davos, who was not much for ceremony either.

Maester Cressen was there to tend to his wounds after, but there were no other witnesses. Davos knew Stannis' decision had been met with confusion by some of the men, and he hoped to relieve some of the worry by very obviously going willingly. He also hoped their marriage would soften Stannis' image.

All that mattered to Davos was that his sons were there, though Maric was tucked away in the nursery, in the cradle he hoped would one day hold more of his children—his Baratheon children. 

Pain exploded up his arm as the cleaver came down and Maester Cressen moved immediately to tend to him. He chanced a glance at the children, but they stood quietly, Renly side by side with his own sons. This turning of his head made him woozy, however, so he was grateful for Stannis' arms suddenly seizing him around his middle. 

"Are you all right?" he asked urgently in his ear.

Davos kissed his cheek. Despite the blackness on the edges of his vision, he answered honestly. 

"I've never been better." 

Stannis insisted on escorting him back to his room and looking after the children for the night. The milk of the poppy Maester Cressen had given him did not keep him awake long enough for him to entertain the cozy fantasy he'd envisioned of Stannis tucking the children in and reading them a story (he'd already seen him do that several times; in fact, he was starting to teach Dale to read), but it shaped his pleasant dreams. 

He woke to find Stannis seated at his bedside, book in hand. 

"Did you get any rest?" he asked his husband-to-be sleepily.

"I'm resting now." He kissed Davos' forehead. "How are you?" 

"Less a few fingertips, but I barely feel it." It was true, the milk of the poppy gave him the feeling of liquid bones, which he wasn't quite fond of, but it did help the pain. "And the children?"

"With Maester Cressen, at lessons."

"Lessons… Such things seem above me and mine."

"Not when you will be the Lord Consort of Storm's End." Stannis drummed his fingers on the spine of his book. "You must learn to read, as well."

Davos opened his mouth to object to this, but found himself slipping once more into a blissful sleep. He hoped Stannis didn't mean to start teaching him right now.

**

Stannis spent the next several days pacing the castle in agitation. He certainly wasn't irritated at Davos for needing the rest—he would give him all the time he needed. It was just that he knew once Davos was fully recovered, he could not put off leaving, and leaving was the last thing he wished to do.

When Davos had sailed into Storm's End with his children, Stannis had never thought he might gain a husband and stepchildren. Now he could not imagine anything else. 

But go he must, for his brother, his king bid him do so. There would be time later to devote the rest of his life to Davos. 

Davos was in good spirits at their parting. His bandages were much smaller than the thick dressing Stannis had fretfully watched Maester Cressen change in the first few days after the cleaving. The children were arrayed around him, Renly standing among them as though he'd always been one of them.

Stannis stood as though his boots were rooted to the dock. 

"I will come back to you," he said firmly. "I will do Robert's bidding and then I will be wholly yours." 

"I will be looking forward to it," Davos said with a smile. 

"Be good for your father," he said to Maric, who Davos wore strapped to his chest. The babe stared at Stannis with wide blue eyes. How big would he be when Stannis got back? 

He sighed. He needed to stop being so maudlin or he would never leave.

"All of you," he added, looking at the other four. "All of you must be good and obey Davos and Maester Cressen."

He bowed stiffly then and kissed Davos' hand, gratified at the touch of color on his cheeks. 

That was the image he took with him when he turned and climbed the gangplank to set sail for Dragonstone.

**

Storm's End without Stannis seemed curiously empty, though its inhabitants treated Davos as well as always. He tried to remind himself that they were to be married and that he was not an intruder. Lord Consort of Storm's End, Stannis had called him, and the prospect of that would take some getting used to. He was almost glad Stannis was away for it allowed Davos to try on his new role by himself. 

The lessons were the first obstacle. Stannis had told Maester Cressen he wished for Davos to learn to read, and he had prepared lessons that Davos took separately from the children so that he might celebrate his sons' achievements while keeping his own struggles private. Maester Cressen proved to be an excellent tutor, even to a man who kept insisting learning was wasted on him, and before long, Davos had to admit the old man and his fiancé had both been right—he could learn to read. When the raven came bearing the news of Stannis' conquest of Dragonstone, Davos even wrote his own reply, crude as it was. 

_I am glad to hear of your victory. We all await your arrival home soon._

Despite penning those lines, Davos was not operating under the assumption that Stannis was going home to Storm's End first—surely he would go immediately to his brother. But word came while he was changing Maric (he still insisted on doing most of the care of his children himself) that Stannis' ship had been sighted. 

Davos took the boys up to the battlements to watch the war fleet's advance into Shipbreaker Bay and found he could have expressed his excitement as freely as they did. When the ship was near enough, they ran for the docks. Stannis was met with kisses and hugs that seemed to shock him, though his grip on Davos was tight nonetheless. 

"I thought you might go to the king first." 

Stannis pressed his cheek to Davos' hair. He hardly seemed to notice the fact that Dale, Allard, Matthos, and Renly were clinging to his legs. 

"I came to you first," he said unnecessarily, scooping Renly up, despite the fact that he'd just said he was too big to be carried. "My uncle carries a letter to Robert of my report. And I will go to him, surely. But I wished to see my betrothed who was waiting for me."

Davos pressed his now-healed left hand to the back of Stannis' neck and pulled him down into a kiss. 

**

The next few weeks were blissful ones, though Stannis almost felt as though he was waiting for word of his own execution as he spent his days with Davos and the children. Wedding plans were a vague future prospect—he knew some interference from Robert was forthcoming and he wanted to wait until that was through before settling on a plan.

Indeed, the letter did come, handed to him by Master Cressen when they returned from a walk beside the sea. Stannis shifted Maric against his chest and reached for it. 

It was a summons to appear before the king. 

"You will come with me, then," he said, handing Davos the letter. "You must be presented to the king as my fiancé." 

Davos paled as he read the words. "Stannis, I'm not sure—"

"I am." Stannis absently stroke his soon-to-be-stepson's fine brown hair. "I am going to marry you, and thus you must meet. You can't very well not meet the man who is to be your goodbrother." 

Davos did not have a reply to this, which allowed Stannis to fancy that he had won the argument on logic, but a thread of nervousness had wormed its way into his belly nonetheless. 

**

At least Davos could say he enjoyed the sea journey to King's Landing. The _Fury_ was a fine ship, and Davos relished being back at sea. 

But the closer they got to the capital, the more he was filled with dread. 

"What are you worried about?" Stannis asked him. 

He had not been expecting such a direct question, and he pressed himself closer to Stannis' chest as they lay huddled in their bunk. "I don't know." 

"I expect him to scold me." Stannis' brow was creased, and Davos could tell he was not without his own worries. "No worse than that." He kissed Davos firmly, and when Maric began to fuss, slipped from the bunk. 

Davos watched his fiancé rock the baby, his broad shoulders bent over the task, and thought that people born as low as he had been feared much worse from kings.

**

Stannis was used to Robert getting his way, but he nearly objected to being summoned immediately into the king's presence upon arriving at the Red Keep. His party was travel-worn, the children were untidy and cranky, and Maric was wailing at the top of his lungs, a fussiness that had begun on the sea journey which was shortly revealed to be his first tooth. 

"It's all right," Davos soothed as they made their way to the royal apartments, and Stannis half fancied the words were intended for him as much as for the squalling babe. 

"Robert!" 

Renly ran forward as soon as they were admitted to their brother's sanctum, all Stannis' coaching in protocol forgotten. (He was at least gratified to see Davos' sons bow uncertainly, if halfheartedly.)

"Renly! How is the littlest stag?" 

"I'm not so little anymore," Renly insisted, though Robert had caught him up and tossed him in the air. "Besides, Allard and Matthos are littler than me. Not to mention Maric." 

Robert seemed to notice the other boys for the first time. He set Renly down. "Quite a set of lungs he's got, hasn't he?" 

"A thousand apologies, Your Grace." Davos dropped to a knee, all while trying not to drop Maric, still squalling. "I was led to believe we were all expected, or else I would not have—"

"Nonsense, nonsense." Robert strode across the room. Davos' sons looked up in awe. "Stannis failed to mention the children." 

Had he really? Stannis mentally reviewed the letter of report he'd written before leaving Dragonstone. It had been a detailed account of military affairs, though he had, he realized alluded to Davos at the end when he'd written of returning to Storm's End to see to his fiancé whom he'd left in a delicate condition.

He had not mentioned the children. 

"Now, I won't have any bowing and scraping from a man who will be my brother, even though we've not been properly introduced. To your feet—and let me see my nephew." Davos rose somewhat reluctantly and handed Maric over. Stannis wasn't sure why he viewed the scene with such tension—perhaps only because Maric was unaccustomed to adults save Davos, himself, and Maester Cressen. 

But the sobs ceased the moment Maric had been passed into Robert's arms.

Robert laughed. "See, Stannis? I have my uses." He paused. "So is this the delicate condition you were talking about?" 

Stannis felt his face go scarlet. He had, of course, meant Davos' fingers but now he could see…. He swallowed hard. "No. Little Maric was born before I left for Dragonstone."

"So," Robert said, surveying the assembled children. 

Stannis cleared his throat. "You have heard of Ser Davos Seaworth, whose deeds I have told you of when I wrote for permission to grant him his lands. Allow me to present Dale Storm, Allard Storm, Matthos Storm, and Maric Storm. Ser Davos and I are to be wed."

Robert nodded. "I suppose you mean you are asking my permission to wed him." 

"Yes." 

"Now, tell me." A smirk spread across Robert's face. "Which of these children is yours?" Stannis' jaw fell open, but Robert was not done. "I had been under the impression that Ser Davos only became acquainted with you from the onions, but now I wonder if perhaps you weren't as chaste all these years as you made yourself seem." 

"I was," Stannis snapped. He closed his eyes, reminding himself of Davos' presence right beside him. "Though I would be honored beyond words, I am not the children's sire." 

"No matter." Robert bounced Maric who was now squealing with laughter. "They'll be my nephews all the same, though I trust you to get to it in making some heirs."

Renly giggled, but Stannis reddened again. "Once we are married." 

"Ah yes, the wedding." Robert turned to Stannis, seemingly heedless of Maric tugging at his doublet. "It will be in the Great Sept of Baelor, as befits the Lord of Storm's End. If you must, Stannis, consider that penance for losing those Targaryen children."

That, of all the things Robert said, rendered Stannis speechless.

**

"Penance," Stannis said. 

They had at last been brought to the apartments they were to occupy and Davos had seen the children off with a nursemaid to be bathed before they supped with the king. 

"I think your brother knows you very well," Davos said, laying Maric on the bed and beginning to remove his wrappings. 

Stannis ran a hand through his hair. "You don't mind?" 

He held up his left hand. "You know my feelings on fair prices." 

Davos sat beside him on the bed. His chest felt as though it might burst, so filled was he with love for Davos. He kissed the shortened fingers. "Then I suppose this is mine to pay for marrying you. I would do it a hundred times or more." 

Davos pulled him in for a proper kiss. "Then we shall do everything that needs doing before we go home with our family." 

He admired Davos' practicality. "Indeed." 

Stannis smiled. For once, it seemed, things were going exactly as he'd have liked them to, or nearly so. He found this immensely satisfying.


End file.
